Cut Up Hero
by Persephone Oswald Oleesen
Summary: UNDER RECONSTRUCTION
1. You Are An Enigma, Amy Rose

So, this is me again. I blame this strange little oneshot on my aunt's cheesy potatoes (she puts _a lot _of salt on her potatoes... My arteries are going to go on strike T.T). Tell me what you think, please. I like getting reviews with substance, so, please, if you can hear me: _Tell me what you __like__ about my story, not just the obvious, "I like it, plz continue!"_

Sigh So troublesome... I don't own Sonic the Hedgehog or any merchandise underneath the trademark sign. Motto: Though I obsess, I do not own. Sob ...

Before reading this, I suggest the reader open his or her CD case, pull out the Used, _In Love and Death, _and pop it into a stereo. I recommend you listen to Cut Up Angels as you read this fic. Seriously, it sets the mood.

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Contrary to what everyone believes, Sonic the Hedgehog does not lead what one would call 'a picture perfect life'. He has shown me things he has never shown anyone else, and he fears I am repelled by his actions.

I am not offended by what he does. I am simply part of his audience, waiting for another of his grandeur performances. I look closer than others, though. I pay more attention to detail.

Sonic is a cutter. One day, when he and I were spending time at Tails' house, Sonic took me to the roof. He told me, "Amy, you have to promise not to tell anyone about this. Promise me." Noting the way his hands were shaking and the way beads of sweat were suddenly decorating his brow, I nodded quickly, heart racing. What would Sonic want to tell me that was so important that no one else could know about it?

That day, Sonic was wearing a black hoodie and a baggy pair of faded jeans. He reached into the back pocket of his pants, took out a switchblade, and popped the knife out. He pulled up a sleeve and quickly ran the sharp edge of the knife over his wrist, hissing as blood bubbled up from the cut. He looked up at me, allowing the crimson liquid to run freely around his thin arm, dripping onto the rooftop. His expression was that of a deer caught in the headlights, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He waited for me to cry out, back away in horror, call for help and try to stem the bleeding.

I stared back into his eyes, my expression blank. I was not afraid or astonished by what he'd done. I was stunningly calm, even as I watched the crimson droplets plink onto the shingles below my feet. Surprising the both of us, I slipped the glove off of my hand and dipped my index finger in the blood sprouting from the cut. I raised my red finger up, staring wonderingly at the substance. Sonic watched me, childlike in demeanor. He hadn't expected me to react this way.

I hadn't expected this, either. I guess I am a girl who is aroused by physical deformity.

Sonic has never told anyone else about his problem. He is not afraid of his friends rejecting him or surveying him with indifference, contrary to what one might think. He knows that all of our friends would be willing to help him and stick by his side until he stopped cutting himself. He understands that they are all here to help him, behind him all the way, and he is thankful for that. What he _is _afraid of is the pity they would show him. Sonic is a person who dislikes being pitied or feeling helpless, and he also understands that our friends would pity him in the state he is in. "The stress of saving the world is getting to him", they would say.

This excuse angers him. He rants on and on about this to me as I sit quietly and listen. He is not stressed or worried about anything, he says. He isn't being worn out by the strain of keeping Eggman at bay.

He is simply fascinated by the pain. This is also something he has never spoken to anyone else about. Only me.

I asked him once why he chose to tell me and only me about his 'problem'. He turned to me, a very serious look on his face.

"Ames, I _knew _that everyone else would pity me in this condition. Tails, Cream, Shadow... They wouldn't understand the reasons I give for cutting myself. That is why I couldn't go to any of them. But you... I thought of you and I had a gut feeling. I thought that maybe, just maybe you wouldn't take pity on me, that you would view me like you would a normal person. And you do." He took my hand then, a simple but sweet gesture. His eyes burning with passion, he added, "You are an enigma, Amy Rose."

Our relationship has definitely taken an unexpected turn. Since he first showed me his wrist up on Tails' roof, he has been more inclined to spend time with me, taking me everywhere he goes. Sure, we must act like our usual selves in public, but that doesn't bother him. Our friends watch us, smiling and commenting on our relationship: "Finally! I thought those two would never get together!" Others, fans of Sonic's, comment on this too: "Ol' Sonic's finally come around! Hallelujah!"

Actually, I believe we have both come to terms with what we mean to each other. We have learned to understand each other much better, and the results have startled me.

We do not have what one would call a 'general relationship'. We do not label ourselves 'best friends' or 'lovers', nor do we think of ourselves as 'playmates'. We do not spend hours talking on the phone or travel to the mall simply to spend time in each other's company. Much to the public's surprise if they found out, we don't even converse half of the time we spend together.

We sit and we listen. Sometimes we'll listen to the radio, sometimes we pull out a CD case. We don't usually quarrel over what we listen to, unless it's a day when we feel somewhat out-of-sync with each other. And even sometimes, we won't turn the music on. We'll listen to the birds chirp in the trees or the cars go by on the highway, and sometimes we'll just listen to each other breathe. During those times, when it's semi-silent in the room we sit in, one of us makes a random sound, making beeping noises or blowing raspberries. When the room is quiet again, we stare at each other for a moment, then giggle lightly.

This is one of the only times that I am able to see him truly smile. Then he kisses me, and all other coherent thought is blocked out by our mingling warmth.

I do not view our love as I once did. We do not make love simply to do so, or to prove our feelings for one another. I believe that Sonic needs to make love to me to assure himself of a thought, of something that bothers him constantly.

He fears that I will leave him. Or, rather, that I will stop understanding him as I have come to understand the Sonic that he really is. He dislikes being pitied, but is horrified by the possibility of being alone. This is why I allow him to seduce me at any time he wants: I understand the need to be loved, to be needed by someone, probably more than anyone has ever understood that focus of thought before. I alone have the power to make or break his will to live, and I am determined to let him know that he is needed by any means I can. Even if that means giving everything I've got to give to him.

I am Amy Rose. I am Sonic the Hedgehog's link to the living and door to the dead, the bridge on which he stands. If I were to break, he would surely spiral into limbo, an eternal space associated with neither pain nor elation, light nor darkness. Considering how things are going now, this might not be such a bad thing.

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Tell me in your reviews if you think I should continue this. Also, as a reminder: _Substance in reviews is golden, people!!_

_**Edit: People, I have a request. If you read this and very muchly enjoyed it, you should check out a little person named PermafrostDuchess. Alone, she is insignificant (laughs evily), but she has written a poem that goes along with this story and adds to the mystique of it (I think). So, if you liked this, then go read her poem, Salvation's Sacrifice. It's pretty!!**_

P.S. I actually _do _think physical deformity has an effect on me (ex. Scars, broken bones, etc.). Also, Gerard Way is _waaaayyyyy _hot. Not that _he's _physically deformed or anything, but...

Later.


	2. Shadow Listens, Shadow Learns

Aha! You all never thought I'd update this again, did you? Well, I've had this typed up for nearly the entire summer, but I've only just decided to put it up now. I hope you all really like it as much as I do!

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As I watched, she and the faker became closer and closer. They spent more time together than they'd ever done before, surprising me as well as the other anthropomorphic idiots I spend my days with. As I watched, something didn't seem right to me. The faker had always been repelled by the pink one, and he'd never been one to openly accept her invitations.

I had liked Amy Rose for a while, but only now I realized how important she had become to me. I felt somewhat protective over the pink-headed nuisance, wanting to keep her out of any possibly dangerous situations she might manage to get herself into without openly admitting my feelings to her. I don't know what exactly attracted me to her initially. She isn't exactly a beauty, and is not much to look at with her jarring choice of clothing color. Pink and red…. What was she thinking? I guess she's somewhat cherubic…. Younger-looking than her age suggests.

Kind of like Maria.

I watched them board the train together once when I was wandering around Station Square. I noticed that they went out of their way to get a car without any other passengers. I was instantly curious; what did they want to do that required an empty train car? As the train pulled out of the station, I stealthily latched onto the roof. Though the wind blew at my quills, I kept a tight hold, and crawled spider-like to a window. Viewing the world upside-down, I peered into the window.

Amy was sitting on one side of the train car, the faker on the other. Dressed in her usual red dress and a long tan trench coat, Amy was distantly pulling on her glove, while the faker sat back against the seat, leaning his head against the window. He was wearing a white wife beater and a pair of khaki shorts, along with his regular red and white sneakers. I frowned. Since when did the faker wear clothes? Suddenly his eyes opened, and I tried to make myself less noticeable, eager to see what he would do next.

He began picking at his glove, finger by finger, and then he pulled it off. My eyes narrowed as I saw the barely closed slash marks decorating his wrist, and I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Amy looked up at the faker as well, and I expected her to freak out. Instead she smiled a dark, sad smile that chilled my insides. That smile definitely did not fit the angelic face I'd come to know.

That was _my _smile.

Amy stood and walked slowly towards the faker, who was rubbing at the crusted blood on his wrist. The cuts were opening up, and as they began to bleed a darkness clouded his usually bright eyes. What did I see in his eyes that frightened me so much that day? As he turned his face up towards Amy, who had stopped before him, I realized what had chilled me more even than Amy's dark smile. His eyes were clouded with animalistic hunger and lust, a look I had seen countless times in my own reflection.

I couldn't stand that look.

As Sonic began to reach for the pink one, I couldn't stand it any longer. I pulled my fist back, tightened it, and drove it downwards, straight into the glass window. I heard a surprised squeal from inside, and I smirked as I climbed inside the window, dropping almost catlike onto the seat beside the window. I straightened up, still standing on the seat, and eyed the other two in the car with my usual scowl, an eyebrow raised.

"Shadow!" Amy cried, a bright smile lighting her features once more. I was relaxed slightly by that expression, noticing that the light was back in her eyes. _This _was the smile Amy Rose was supposed to greet the world with, not that sadistic grin from before.

I nodded towards her, then turned my attention towards Sonic, who was desperately trying to tug his glove back on. "Don't bother, Faker, I saw it already," I muttered, crossing my arms and stepping down off of the seat.

His head jerked upwards, and I could've swore I saw fear in those emerald eyes before he masked his face with anger. "Yeah? Who told you you could join us, hmm? I don't remember agreeing to anything."

"I don't need your approval to board a train, Faker," I shot back, taking a step forward.

Sonic stood up as well, raising an eyebrow and grinning at me with his usual cocky attitude about him. Though, today something about it seemed amiss. "Well, if you would have got on the train like a _normal _person, instead of crawling in through our window, I wouldn't be so objected to the idea."

"Ah." Taking another step forward, I looked between the two of them. "I'm not usually interested in the personal affairs of you idiots, but I'm just _dying _to know-- have you _finally _realized that Amy loves you, or are you just trying to get her to pity you?" I nodded towards Sonic's partly covered scars, which dripped blood onto the dark teal carpet of the train car.

Before the Faker could respond, Amy stepped between the two of us, facing me. She looked away from me, a pained expression stretching her features, making her look much older than she was supposed to. "Shadow… Please don't fight here. Sonic's just…. He's going through a lot right now, okay? Please." She looked up at me pleadingly, the faintest glimmer of tears in her shining emerald eyes. That look instantly made me step back and sit down. I didn't like to see her cry, and I really didn't want to make her cry myself.

I looked away from her, frowning down at the dark red-brown puddle underneath Sonic's wrist. "Sorry."

Amy smiled her sweet smile, then turned away from me and back to the faker. "Sonic, I think you oughta tell him."

"Why should I?" Sonic grumbled, pulling his glove back over the bleeding scars. The white cloth was instantly stained red, but he seemed not to notice as he sat back down on the seat, pouting. "He wouldn't understand me. Not like _you _do, Ames," He looked up at her with that dark look back in his eyes, and Amy didn't notice as she smiled.

_I _noticed. In an instant I was between Amy and Sonic, glaring down at him. "Okay, Faker, stop looking at her like that. I don't know what has been going on between you two the last few weeks, but you are going to tell me, or else I'm leaving. And taking _her _with me," I added, seeing him open his mouth for a smartmouth comment.

His eyes widened, and I read fear in them all too easily before he looked away, pouting again. "Fine."

I frowned deeper at Sonic. He was afraid of losing the pink one. Why? Probably because she was the only one he'd trust with his secret, and without her he'd be alone. I understood this mainly because I am alone. Have been, always will be.

This notion has ceased to bother me.

I sighed and sat down beside the Faker, who was surprised by my sudden gesture and scooted to the other side of the seat. I snorted. "I wasn't sitting down beside you because I wanted to, Faker. I need to listen to your story, and I didn't want to stand up during the whole thing."

Sonic didn't move, and Amy plopped down between us. She took Sonic's hand and began caressing his fingers with her thumb. "Okay, Sonic. I think it's time you told him." He gave her a look, and I almost felt sorry for him. He looked like a lost puppy, being told he would have to live on the streets for the rest of his life. Amy squeezed his hand, and he sighed heavily.

"I…. I cut myself. My wrists, I mean." Sonic began slowly, as if trying to find the right words. I held back my comment about knowing this information already, because I knew that arguing with him or making him mad would mean that it would take longer to get the entire story out of him. "…. My reason… I like the pain."

My eyes widened. So maybe the faker and I weren't that different after all. This was all beginning to sound very familiar.

"I…. Couldn't tell anyone but Amy because…. I've seen her take care of injured chao before, and I've watched her take care of Cream when she was sick. I guess I felt like if she could take care of them, then… Maybe she could take care of me, too."

Amy was now laying her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. I tried not to look, because whenever I did for some reason my stomach would twist. I told myself I was just hungry.

What a poor excuse.

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Should I write more? Please, please tell me if you think so!


	3. Truth Hurts, Sonic

I'm still not sure where I'm taking this story, so… I dunno what's goin' on. Imma try another chapter, though, so I hope you guys are following this!

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I hate feeling helpless.

This situation I've gotten myself into has got me thinking. If Amy decided she wanted more than what I am able to give her, would she leave me? I try not to think about this, because I wouldn't be able to stand life without her. She is the only one who understands how I feel. She couldn't leave me, could she? She would only leave me if another stole her away from me.

Shadow.

That asshole. He can't leave well enough alone. Ever since that day on the train, he's been calling Amy's cell phone, checking up on her. She says she's fine every time, but he just won't go away.

He's never once called my phone.

…. It's not that I'm jealous of her or anything. I don't _want _him calling me. I just wish he'd stop calling Ames. I don't like the sudden interest he's taken in our relationship. We're doing just fine. If he would go away, we'd be even better.

We were on our way over to Tails' house when we got on the train. He'd called us over for dinner, and we'd wanted to go out that night. I'd told Shadow everything I was willing to, and the three of us sat in silence, Amy still beside me. I think she had fallen asleep, and as I contemplated how fast she was able to go to sleep I noticed Shadow looking at the pair of us. Well, more specifically, at her. His eyes were softer than I'd ever seen them, and he had the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Any normal person wouldn't have noticed the way his eyebrow twitched in humor, how his gaze slowly rose and fell with the steady beat of her heart. He looked entranced.

It pissed me off. I briefly considered stalking over to where he sat and giving him the ole' One Two, but Amy shifting against me gave me another idea. After gently raising her head off of my shoulder, I wrapped my left arm around her and hugged her closer to me, kissing her as softly as I could on the forehead. I thought I could feel Shadow's gaze burning into the back of my head, and any second I expected him to pull me off of her and toss me out the broken window of the train. I stopped kissing her and glanced over at him, haughty grin on my face, expecting to see him glaring daggers in my direction. To my surprise, he wasn't even looking at us. He was standing with his back to us. Arms folded, he was staring out the broken window at the Mystic Ruins valley. It was like he hadn't even noticed me.

The misty look in his eyes made me wonder. What exactly was he thinking about? What could make a cold-hearted bastard like him appear so defenseless, so heartbroken?

"Dammit, Faker, stop staring at me and wake her up."

I blinked a couple of times, startled by the sudden harshness in his voice. "Huh?"

"Wake Amy up. You two are going to see Tails, right?" He turned towards us, that misty look gone from his eyes. "The train's stopping. We're here."

"O-oh." I frowned at him, then turned to Amy. To my surprise, she was awake and staring up at me with a smile. "Hi, Ames."

"Hey." Sitting up, she yawned and rubbed at her eyes. "Are we there yet?"

"Yeah," I nodded, feeling the train come to a stop underneath us. Standing, I turned and offered her my hand. She took it, and I pulled her up.

"Thanks," She said to me, smiling.

I smiled back, and was just about to exit the train when I noticed that Shadow was staring at her again. That misty look was back in his eyes, along with a measure of darkness that I couldn't comprehend. His hands opened and closed over and over again, and I could see tiny beads of sweat popping up all over his forehead. He looked extremely nervous, and I could see that Amy noticed this too. She stared back at him, a slight worry line between her pretty eyes. I could tell that she wanted to say something to him, to ask him what was troubling him, but she couldn't find the words.

I couldn't blame her. The look in Shadow's eyes had startled me, as well. For some reason, I had the sudden urge to get her off the train.

Away from him.

Amy was just barely able to tear her eyes away from him when I touched her on the shoulder. "Hey, Ames, doncha think we should get goin'? Tails is waiting on us." I spoke softly, unconsciously not wanting him to hear me. I had a feeling he might snap if he thought I was trying to get her away from him.

She nodded, shakily smoothing the rumpled sleeves of her trench coat. "O-okay, Sonic. Let's go." She turned towards the door, and when she didn't feel me following her, she turned and cast a glance back at the two of us.

I nodded, smiling softly. "It's okay. I'll meet you over there, alright?"

Still not convinced she was doing the best thing in leaving us alone, Amy glanced once more at the two of us and left. As the train door slid shut, I turned back to Shadow. He was staring out the window again, and though he clearly didn't want to talk to me I walked over beside him. Silent, I mimicked his position and glared out the window, doing my best Shadow face. He tried not to let it get to him, but after a few moments he finally turned to me. "What?"

I glanced at him, my Shadow face still picture-perfect. "What what?"

"What the hell do you want, Faker? Amy's outside; you oughta be trailing after her, moaning and groaning about your problems. That's the only way you're capable of showing affection, strange as it seems."

My Shadow face was replaced by a look of disgust, and I turned back to the window. "Shut up. I wanna know why you are all of a sudden so interested in us. Why don't you go hide yourself away in your little space haven? We were all doing fine without the buzz-kill parade sulking around."

"Oh, ha ha. 'We were all doing fine--' That's bullshit. You don't think I've noticed how she feels? She can't stand being with you. You're holding her down. If she keeps tending to your wounds, don't you think she's gonna want something in return? You, in the condition you're in, are not going to be able to fit the bill."

I stared, dumbfounded and lost for words at my darker counterpart. "Wha--? Holding her down…? What in the _hell _are you talking about? Amy and I are--"

"You can't be that blind," Shadow muttered, shaking his head and turning away from me. "I was almost sure you were too smart not to have noticed. I must've gave you too much credit."

I blinked. Thoughts whirled around in my head like Charmy when he gets excited. I was trying to comprehend what he'd said-- _What? Amy can't stand being with me?_-- while simultaneously attempting to come up with a retort to his comment. The result was a jumbled and chaotic version of my cool exterior, and I tried to get my anger under control.

"You mean you've never noticed the way she cringes inside every time you mutilate yourself? You don't realize that she can't stand to see you fall, so she holds you up in an obviously futile attempt at keeping you alive? You can't see that you are tearing her apart?"

I can honestly say that if I had not been stopped that day, I may have ended up killing him. Gone was the friendly rivalry from before. Gone was any notion in my mind labeling him as 'friend'. I turned to him, and he turned to me. My chest was burning. I felt like I had to hit something, and my fist connecting with his face was probably the thing I anticipated most in that moment. I stepped closer to him, imagining drawing my fist back and driving it forward into that dark, snide face--

"Sonic? Shadow?"

Shadow turned almost mechanically back to the window as I glanced to the door. Amy was standing in the frame, glancing back and forth between the two of us. Looking at her face, her hair, her eyes, I pushed Shadow's words out of my mind and mustered up my best smile. Walking over to her, I took her by the shoulder and led her out of the train. She raised her eyebrows at me, but I shook my head. She frowned at first, but then shook her own head and smiled again.

Shadow was wrong. We were okay.

… Right?

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So, Sonic is beginning to have doubts, eh? I was somewhat worried too, because I didn't know if I should put the new chappie in Sonic's POV. Let's face it: Sonic is somewhat... inexperienced at the art of emo-ness, I'm afraid. If you guys like it, I'll probably end up switching POV's like this: Amy, then Shad, then Sonic. I won't be able to make up a decision unless I get some feedback, so please, readers: review for me, okay? (Smiles her best little girl smile) Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?


	4. On Love, Hate and Guilt

Cut Up Hero

Chapter Four: On Love, Hate and Guilt

Word Count: 2283

Next chapter, UP!

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"…."

"Shadow?"

"… Amy, are you sure you're alright? If not, I can come over there."

"No, really, Shadow, I'm alright. Picture perfect!"

"….. Okay. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Mhhm. Okay, Shadow. Bye!"

"Goodbye, Amy."

I hit the 'End' button on my cell phone and heaved a sigh. These frequent talks with Amy were getting my mind running in places I didn't want it to go. I tried unsuccessfully to get my mind off of the false quality of her voice as I sat back in the large armchair. My "home" still lacked many of the qualities that would make a place on Mobius comfortable for most beings, but I thought my living conditions were satisfactory. Little did I realize back then that a bed, a chair and an end table did not qualify a room as being "comfortable".

I heard a cooing noise next to my ear. Absently I reached out and scratched underneath the neck of a little chao perched on the armrest of the chair. I'd found this creature not two months ago on one of my few visits to Mobius for supplies. It had been the lone inhabitant of a cardboard box beside the train station in Station Square, looking up at the passing pedestrians with large lonely eyes. The little thing had wanted a home, and the people boarding and getting off of the train seemed not to notice. Pitying the creature, I inconspicuously bent over and picked it up, balancing two paper grocery sacks in my other arm, and warped back up to my reign of solace and seclusion. It feared the place at first.

The first time I came back after regaining my memories, so had I.

The chao I had dubbed Shade mewled, and I noticed it had attained a darker color since I had picked it up. It used to be the standard blue color of normal chao, but now it was nearly black, its fur an extremely dark purple. I noticed ears pricking up out of the top of its head, and sections of the chao's head were jutting out in much the same style as my quills. I also noticed that lighter purple stripes were beginning to show on these spikes. With a jolt I realized that the chao was taking on my characteristics as a result of spending so much time with me.

I didn't know whether I liked that or not.

I struggled to get my mind off my possibly dysfunctional chao and ended up stumbling onto the topic of Amy again. I groaned and stood up, startling the little chao on the armrest and causing it to squeal in protest. I ignored it, stalking out of the room and into the hallway. I had to get my mind off of her. Walking through the cold solitary hallways of my "home" was the only way I could imagine getting her out of my head; the stark baldness of the halls made me feel more like myself, and made me think less of the warm soul in my dreams.

I had been trying this for weeks now. It had yet to truly work, but my only other solution was the gin bottle in the food storage room. And that, I believed, was far worse than walking around a desolate space station trying to find some solace from my own mind.

Suddenly I felt my cell phone buzzing. Stopping, I quickly bent down and reached into my shoe, feeling my entire foot vibrate along with my phone. It was an unsettling feeling, having your foot vibrate, and I cursed myself for not having a better hiding place for my personal stuff. I yanked the phone out of my shoe and felt relieved when the buzzing in my foot ceased only to be replaced by a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had been hoping that Amy had called me back, but the name on the screen of the flip phone was not the one I was hoping for. "Rouge Cell" stood against the dark background in white cubical letters, and I heaved a sigh. This was bound to be an unpleasant conversation.

"Hello?"

"Shadow? Hi! How are you?"

"… I'm okay, Rouge. What's up?"

"I'm good. I just wanted to call and see what you're doing."

"I'm not doing much, I'm afraid. I've been sitting around all day. Shade got stuck in an air vent today and I had to go in after him. It wasn't very easy. We fractured one of his wings trying to get him out."

"Oh! Well, is he okay otherwise?"

"Oh yeah, he's alright. I gave him a painkiller earlier, and now he's not even aware he hurt himself. It's kind of cute, actually."

"Mmhmm."

Silence ensued. I picked at a dark spot on my glove as I leaned against the wall, holding the phone in the crook of my neck. I pictured what she must be doing at that very moment, laying on her bed and scratching an itchy place on her ear, or pacing around her room above Club Rouge, the cell also propped against her shoulder. I found myself smiling at the thought, and instantly I hardened my expression.

That ship had already sailed.

"…So…" I tried to start up the conversation again only to find I had nothing to talk about. I flailed, grasping at any wisps of a meaningful conversation. After a few guttural throat sounds, I blurted out, "So, how are you and Knuckles doing?"

_Shit._

Silence on the other end of the line. I could picture her again, either burying her face into her bed or stopping in the middle of her room, eyes wide. I hated myself for bringing this specific topic up, but I hated her even more for not answering immediately. My anger grew as did the silence between us.

I heard a sigh. Then: "Shadow, I didn't want this to turn into something ugly. I just wanted to have a pleasant conversation between friends. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," I replied coldly. Then I added, "Was it too much to ask to stay true, Rouge? Was it?"

"Shadow--"

"Don't _Shadow _me, Rouge. I thought we agreed not to do this anymore. I don't call you and you don't call me unless it's something serious. Are you hurt?"

She huffed. "No, but--"

"Is _Knuckie _hurt?"

"NO, but--"

"Then you violated your part of the bargain. What do I get in return?"

Instead of answering, she huffed again. "You see, this is exactly why I broke it off. You were getting too emotionally involved with me. I _told _you I wasn't making any promises! It was just supposed to be a fling! We were both going through hard times, it seemed like the perfect thing to get us back on our feet! This could have ended perfectly if _you _hadn't broken the rules! I'm just trying to keep our friendship intact. As far as I'm concerned, now we're even."

_Clack. _An empty dial tone hummed in my ear, as I had expected. I growled and pushed myself off of the wall. I glanced at my phone once more before I cocked my arm back and tossed it with all my might down the long hallway. I listened to it crack as it landed, bouncing off the floor once, twice, three times before sliding to a stop over fifty feet away from me. The sounds reverberated down the hall towards me, thrumming with my already aching, empty heart. At the opposite end of the hall behind me, Shade mewled sadly, mourning with me.

_The rift grows._

* * *

I gasped into the palm of my glove, staring into the blank face of my cell. I couldn't believe how the situation was spiraling out of my control so quickly. Already I had Shadow so concerned about me, and I hadn't even accomplished what I set out to do yet! When I sat down and thought about how my plan was supposed to work, I had never thought about it going _this _quickly. I had always thought I had more time. I couldn't allow Shadow to become privy to my task, even if it meant I had to avoid him for a while. It was a small sacrifice for what would follow when my plan was fully complete.

"Amy? You in here?"

I turned. There, in the doorway, was Sonic. Backlit by the hallway light, he leaned against the doorway with his head cocked to the side, and although I could not see his face I knew he was smiling. I smiled back at him and gestured for him to join me on the bed, inconspicuously stowing my cell phone in the folds of my rumpled blankets. I had yet to make the bed.

He entered my bedroom and perched himself on the bedside beside me, leaning back on both hands and observing me. "What were you doing in here all alone?"

I chuckled and indicated the bed. "Observing the mess we made. You know, I've had to make this bed four times since yesterday afternoon."

He smiled too, and I saw a glint in his dark eyes as he looked at me. "Well, I didn't hear you complaining before. Would you rather not have to make the bed so often? We could go outside…"

I giggled and crawled into his lap, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his neck. He responded immediately, wrapping his arms around my form. "Nah. I think making the bed is a small price to pay to avoid getting spied on."

"What, my Amy Rose is camera shy? I didn't think you'd be the type to be overly conscious about your sex life," he replied. His voice had taken on a husky sound, and it made my grin widen. I felt the pit of my stomach warm up, and I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist, digging my fingers into his sides. He leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss, soulful and sweet, and I could feel him smile against my lips. Just as I began to press myself into his mouth he pulled away.

Gasping slightly, I whispered, "What is it?" My eyes fluttered, and I felt him tense up. I frowned and asked again. "What's wrong, Sonic?"

He sniffed. "Are you high?"

I opened my eyes and saw his normally soft features darken into a scowl. Before I knew what was happening, he'd released me and had eased me off of his lap and onto the bed again. He stared at me for a moment, then stood and made as if to leave.

I stood too, reaching for his wrist and grasping it. "Wait, Sonic."He stopped but did not turn to me. I walked around him instead, now holding his hand between the two of mine. "Listen to me, will you?"

He was silent for a minute, then replied, "Okay. I'm listening."

I sighed and nodded, still holding his hand. "Earlier, you said I was a little pale and asked me if I was alright, remember?" He grunted in response. I continued, "I told you I was okay, but I lied, a little. I was feeling really nauseous, and my head was pounding. I had already taken a couple of Tylenol, but the headache wasn't getting any better and my nausea had gotten worse, if anything. I have a small stash in the back of my dresser drawer, third one down. I only rolled one, and that was just to take care of my symptoms." I kept my eyes trained on his during my whole confession, trying to convince him that I was being entirely honest with him. I was sure he would make me take what little weed I had left and toss it, and I was okay with that. I didn't even smoke that much anymore. I rolled one maybe every six months, and sometimes not even that often. Smoking that little hardly earned me the title "Pothead". I felt a little guilty for not telling him the entire reason I had broken out my secret stash; Shadow had also stressed me out, and I had needed something to take my mind off of him.

We were silent. I had released his hand halfway through my confession, and I stared at the hand I had been holding for a while. When I couldn't stand the silence anymore, I was about to turn to leave when he gathered me into his arms and kissed me again. I was startled, but I sank into the kiss and let him guide me back to the bed. He broke off the kiss and sat me down on the bed. When he didn't follow me I put on a pouty face, and he shook his head. I noticed his eyes had a gentle touch to them.

"Tomorrow, Ames. Tonight, you rest. I'm going to spend the night at Tails' house, but I'll be back in the morning." He kissed me once more with a gentleness that almost made me cry, and then murmured, "Goodnight, Ames." He turned and walked out of my room, and I heard the front door close a few moments later.

I touched my hand to my lips and then to my cheek. My lips trembled, and my face was wet. _Why are you crying? _I asked myself, hurriedly drying my face on my arm. _There's nothing to cry about-- he forgave you. What reason do you have to cry when he's _not _mad at you?_

Little did I know then that that was exactly why I was crying.

* * *

Okay, tell me what you think, 'cuz I've been working on this chap for a while and I want to know if I did okay on it. Alright? Chao!


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